


By her side

by MelindaCoulson4



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Baby Fitzsimmons, F/M, Family Feels, Love, Memory Loss, Moving On, Recovery, Support, Tahiti (Agents of SHIELD)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25868491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelindaCoulson4/pseuds/MelindaCoulson4
Summary: AOS started with the death of a hero. The Tahiti project was created to bring back a fallen hero. And so the cycle continues....only this time it isn't Phil Coulson.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson & Melinda May & Skye | Daisy Johnson, Skye | Daisy Johnson/Daniel Sousa, Yo Yo Rodriguez & Deke Shaw
Comments: 28
Kudos: 72





	By her side

**Author's Note:**

> Guys....I did something wild..... 
> 
> So while thinking about finale possibilities I had the cursed thought of Daisy dying just like Coulson in the avengers. This fic literally just flew out of my brain so I had to do it. 
> 
> Set a month post-finale. 
> 
> Prepare for maximum pain but also sweetness via Daniel Sousa. 
> 
> #team feels 

She jerked awake. Her eyes automatically looking to her right for the man in the chair. He was there, watching her closely. It took him a minute to react. He froze sitting up quickly, mouth falling open. "Hey. Hey. You're awake." He stood up and moved to her side quickly. 

There was a beeping. Her body hurt like someone had thrown her off the side of a building. At first glance, she saw nothing but white. White walls. White blanket covering her body. White bandages over her arms. Several things ran through her head at once. Miles was always telling her that she needed to cool it with her speed. That her van would turn into an accordion against any vehicle with substance. A car accident that had to be how she'd wound up in here. And this guy at her side was some nice citizen. A witness that had come to make sure she'd be alright. 

He completely surprised her when he grabbed a hold of her hand. "Skye," he whispered. 

He knew her name. "Huh?" She said. The way her voice sounded startled her. It had come out scratchy and deep, leaving the inside of her throat aching. 

"Are you okay?" He looked down at her full of concern. 

No. Most definitely not okay. 

She tried sitting up. And that brought a spike of pain that went rolling down her spine but she continued to try anyway. 

"Hey. Hey. Hey," he protested. "Take it easy," he said, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What is it? What hurts?" He asked, slowly transitioning to a seated position at the edge of her bed. 

The overwhelming sense of unknown threw her into a panic. "Everything. I. I. I..." She stuttered. "What's happening?" Against her will, her eyes watered. She didn't want to appear weak or fragile but it was kind of hard not to in this situation. It couldn't be helped. 

"You were in an accident," he told her, rubbing his thumb against the top of her hand. He was gentle in the way he touched her. 

An accident. That was acceptable, but the thing that scared her most. That had her palms sweating under the knit white blanket and her breathing picking up was that the last thing she remembered was white sand. Had she nearly drowned? Or worse, attacked by some stranger? 

"Breathe. Just breathe. D- Skye. Look at me." It was a request, not an order. "Breathe with me, okay?" 

Eyes swinging back to him, she nodded. His presence was calming. She blew a breath out. Her heart continued hammering away. 

"Slow...in and out," he coached softly. 

His chest rose and fell rhythmically. She did her best to mimic it. "Okay. Okay," she whispered. Feeling rational thought return. Things were okay. For one, she was alive and two, this man was here. As she knew he would be....somehow. 

Sensing her need for space again, he backed up slightly, but didn't go far. He stayed an arm's length away. 

Her mouth was so dry. Like someone had shoveled a truckload of sand into it while she slept. "Water," she requested. 

A styrofoam cup with a bendy straw appeared in front of her. She swallowed it down greedily, finishing it in three long gulps. His eyes never wavered from her face as he held the cup in place for her. When she found her breath, she asked, "Not to be rude or anything but...who are you?" 

He looked down, swallowing hard. "James." It was not what she expected him to say. "You like calling me Jim though." He said, attempting to smile, but it failed to reach his eyes. 

"Jim," she tested. It felt weird, but she nodded anyway, wanting to make him feel better as he just did with her. His clothes were rumpled. Dark circles seemed engrained on his face like he hadn't slept in weeks. Several stacks of newspapers sat on the window ledge. He'd been sitting by her bedside for a while then. And it looked like he'd been in the same accident as her. A long, odd looking bruise lined his jaw. Several small cuts were sprinkled over his face. There was a black sling around his neck, cradling his entire right arm. 

Her eyes dipped to the hand he had near hers on the bed. No ring. So they weren't married. Given the hand holding and lack of ring there were only a few options. "Okay. Jim. Um. What are you to me?" 

She expected pain to cross his face or more realistically anger. Forgetting him entirely wasn't exactly a nice thank you for him sitting by her bedside. But he remained straight-faced, almost stony. "Your boyfriend," he said. 

_Should she apologize? Hey Jim, you seem like a swell guy, but I have no memory of our time together at all._ "I can't remember anything," she whispered, sounding small. 

He nodded. "That's okay," he answered, calm and collected. Not anything like his world had just been flipped upside-down, which lead her to suspect that he'd anticipated this. 

There was a cot pushed against the far wall. She had no roommate. A blanket was thrown over the back of his chair. A tower of books were stacked off to the side. She read the spine of the thickest one, "A Concise History of the 20th Century". If he was bored enough to read something like that just how much time had passed? Long enough to accumulate these things to keep himself occupied. She was afraid to know the answer, so instead she asked, "What happened to us?" 

He looked her right in the eye. "Helicopter crash." 

That did not sound right at all. "A what?" She blurted, doubt clouding her mind. 

"There was a helicopter crash. We were...in Tahiti." He shook his head as if recalling something painful. "It completely shattered your left shoulder blade. You had a concussion. Ten broken ribs..." He trailed off. 

Come to think of it she did feel different somehow. Like she'd been torn apart and then put back together again, piece by piece. She expected some other explanation. Maybe it was the disorientation of the memory loss. Either way it was a deeply odd feeling to have. 

"Believe it or not you were lucky." His face shadowed over like he'd seen too much. Witnessed too much. "We...were lucky," he amended. 

And others not so much, her brain finished for him. "People died?" 

"Yea." A haunted look crossed his face. 

It made her uncomfortable, so she didn't look at his face. He caught her staring at the rest of his body. "I have a broken arm, but it's healed well. It was in a...cast. But now I have this." He gestured to the sling. 

The door opened. A young woman walked in, shuffling papers and watching Jim. The doctor, Skye suspected. The woman smiled at Jim like they were on friendly terms, familiar with each other. "Ma- 

"She's awake," he said, interrupting her. 

The doctor turned to her, shocked to her core. "You're awake," she repeated Jim, almost in disbelief. 

"I am," Skye confirmed, then felt stupid. 

"How long have I been here exactly?" She asked, changing the subject. 

The doctor stood in place, still staring at her, stunned that she was even speaking. Skye had never seen a doctor so thrown by a patient waking up. 

"A while," Jim answered. His eyes flickered away. 

That scared her. 

He seemed to detect her fear because he reached out and touched her fingers. "It was bad. I thought you were gone." 

"You're a fighter," the doctor said. Skye felt that she could trust her. There was a genuineness about her. A face that you'd want to tell anything to. 

"Not literally though. I work with computers for a living," Skye said almost on automatic. The words felt true though. Keyboards and screens. She remembered that. "Right?" She looked to Jim for confirmation. 

There was a long pause. Jim seemed almost mournful for a moment, then he smiled. "Yea. Don't ask me the details though. I don't understand the first thing about those things." 

Both he and the doctor laughed, but it failed to truly reach either of their eyes. They both seemed worn down. There were more lines on Jim's face than she remembered ever being there. 

"I'm feeling...." Skye trailed off, thinking about what to say. Claustrophobic. Locked up. Trapped in a bubble. "Could I maybe take a walk?" She asked the doctor hesitantly. She wasn't really in great shape, but she needed to move. 

When no answer came, her eyes flickered to the doctor. She seemed trapped in some sort of trance, staring down at the papers in her arms. 

"Doctor?" 

The woman blinked, coming back from where her mind had been. "Sorry. What did you say?" 

"A walk. Do you think I could take one?" 

The doctor opened her mouth, denial clearly on her tongue. 

"Please," Skye added quickly. "Please," she begged, meeting the doctors eyes. She seemed like a good person. Human and able to work with a patient. 

The doctor swallowed past a lump in her throat. "That can be arranged for you," she stated quietly. 

It wasn't until she and Jim made it into the hall that Skye realized she never caught the doctor's name. The woman wore no nametag nor white lab coat. But it had been obvious who she was by her caring demeanor. As she'd fiddled with the machines and disconnected the IVs, Skye felt a healing energy around the room. She wanted to ask the doctor where she was from. The accent was British and could hardly be missed, but the doctor had grown skittish towards the end. Like something was deeply upsetting. Jim had stepped in to help her stand from the bed. The doctor had made herself scarce after that. 

The going was slow. She kept her eyes primarily on her feet. One foot in front of the other. She couldn't ever remember having to use crutches before. There had been the time in middle school when she'd fallen over a soccer ball. On the landing there had been a distinct crack from her leg. She didn't dare say anything to her foster parents. All they needed was one excuse to be rid of her. That's how they all were, so she'd walked with a pretty profound limp for a while. And that marked the permanent end of her sports career. 

During her time in the bed, her muscles had grown weak. Her body itself seemed to be in relatively okay shape for a woman who'd had so many injuries. As she lifted the crutches, she wobbled a bit. 

"Woah. I've got ya," Jim said with a supportive hand at her back. 

She believed him. She knew it was true down to her core. He would always be there to pick her up. Or not let her fall in the first place. 

It was quiet out here. So much so that her crutches seemed a thousand times louder than they truly were. When she tapped them on the tile, the noise seemed to echo all around them. She had the suspicion that this hospital was really small. There was barely any activity around. No nurses hustling around. No other patients. Maybe she'd seen too many movies. At this point she was kind of desperate just to see different people around. Just when she was about to ask Jim where they even were in terms of a city, she saw actual people. 

They passed a small waiting room. It was an open area filled with chairs and tables. She saw a middle aged-man and woman sitting side-by-side. Clearly a couple by the way they leaned on one another. The man wore a white checkered shirt that was tucked into a pair of khakis. Dark rimmed glasses rested on the tip of his nose. He had a book in hand, halfway finished by the looks of it. The woman wore a light purple sweater and a necklace. Her dark hair was pinned back. Her arm was threaded in the man's. They looked like old sweethearts. 

The woman caught Skye looking. They locked eyes and Skye felt her chest tighten. The woman smiled politely, but it was a facade. Putting on a brave face, Skye thought. There was a deep sadness to her. She clutched at her husband's hand. They both appeared tired and worn down, like they'd received bad news or were waiting on news of a close family member. At least they had each other. She hoped things would work out for them. 

One of her crutches caught on the tile floor. She found that she could no longer lift it. Her breathing had kicked up. Heart beating erratically. Sweat had broken out under her arms. She could scarcely hold onto the rubber grip attached to the crutches. She halted in place, feeling like she couldn't move forward. There was something deeply wrong...but her mind blanked. 

"You okay?" Jim asked from her side, but he sounded far away. So far away. 

The world was spinning fast, intending on hurling her off somewhere that she didn't know. She'd never felt so lost before. Her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to fight it all off. Parents. The word had entered her mind from nowhere and spread out like wildfire. Even though she was an adult she wished she knew who they were. It hardly mattered at the moment. She couldn't understand why this was happening now. 

"Skye, can you hear me?" 

Jim. Jim was still here. And just like that everything was okay. When she opened her eyes the world had grown still once more. Normal. Things were normal. He was at her side and he wasn't going anywhere. 

"What just happened?" Jim questioned, clearly distraught. 

She didn't want to worry him. She wanted to see him happy. A smile on his face, that was something she could remember. When he chuckled he looked so damn endearing and genuine. So she put on a brave face. "Just out of breath for a sec," she told him, brushing her panic away. 

"Maybe we should go back." His warm hand settled against her shoulders. 

Nothing seemed real in here. Like she might be dreaming. She wanted to see birds flying through the air, feel wind on her cheeks, and hear the sound of traffic. What she didn't want was to keeping breathing stale, recirculated hospital air. "No way I want some fresh air. Just needed a breather is all. I'm good now. Promise," she said, determined to finish this. 

So they continued on. 

Something flew across the floor, bounced off the toe of her shoe, and came to a halt about a foot away. A green dot. It was tiny, not even the size of a penny. The word pebble popped into her mind, but it wasn't right. That was a stupid thing to think. Pebbles weren't lime green. It was a piece of candy. She stepped over it easily. 

The proof came a few feet later. A man had a red baggie in his hand. He was busy tossing Skittles and catching them in his mouth. And from the looks of him, he was terrible at it. But luck seemed to be on his side, most of the candies had wound up in his lap so he could try again. Best two out of ten, she thought. 

There were several candy and chocolate wrappers on the empty chair next to him. She counted at least three Lemonhead baggies. Clearly he had a sweet tooth. He upended the Skittle bag into his palm. A purple one popped out. He looked about ready to prepare for the next toss, but stopped short. Wondering what the hold up was, her eyes ran up to his face. She was almost taken aback by the way he was staring at her. His eyes were blown wide, like a deer caught in headlights. She'd always heard the expression and had used it herself sometimes, but now she was seeing it in its truest form. If a giant bulky alien popped up and punched him in the face, she didn't think he could look anymore shocked than he did right now. 

The woman next to him seemed to notice his rude behavior, turned and elbowed him in the gut. He flinched, dropping that last Skittle. His head swung towards the woman. "Ow!" He complained, outraged. 

"Pendejo," the woman said. 

The two began bickering back and forth like siblings. Clearly they had a familiarity with each other. Neither one looked at her again. 

Completely thrown by the exchange, Skye's brows furrowed. Both of them were purposefully not looking at her. A terrible thought crossed her mind. Had she been disfigured? A face transplant. Or a skin graft. Helicopters could explode and Jim never gave her the details. All the terrible ways someone could be hurt in a crash ran through her mind. "Is something wrong with my face?" 

"No," Jim said quickly. 

"Don't lie to me," she warned. 

"I would never lie to you about something like that," he said seriously. "Besides a few gnarly scratches and some bruises your face is perfect." 

Perfect. Where did she find a man this nice? She didn't think she'd ever heard someone call her face perfect. Caring. Supportive. Nice. Attractive. She patted her past self on the back for choosing him. 

A large guy, built like Dwayne "the rock" Johnson was coming down the hall. 

"Holy God. That guy is big," she murmured. 

He was stacked with muscles, but slim. He had a cardboard carrier in each hand. Both completely full. There were four coffees in each carrier, each cup of varying size. One was even a frappuccino. 

"How many coffees does one guy need?" She whispered, trying not to stare. 

"When you're that big, I guess eight," Jim responded. 

She chuckled. They kept moving and when they passed the coffee man he actually met her eye without reacting like she looked like a leper. He nodded politely as he passed. She smiled and did the same. 

There were pictures all along the walls of different landscapes. She stared at them and wondered where her home was. She had no idea. The only thing she knew was that Jim was in her life. That felt right. 

To fill the silence, she asked, "So what were we doing in Tahiti anyway?" 

"Taking a long deserved vacation. Which is what we're going to continue doing until you're all healed," he said. 

A vacation from what? She tried to picture herself living with Jim. Maybe having dinner ready for him just as he set foot in the house after a long days work. She couldn't picture it. She wanted to know what he did for a living. Then she realized that she didn't even know what her own job was. So many questions and not enough answers. She didn't want to hurt him, but she could barely remember anything. The last thing she remembered was the pain. She'd fought so hard to live. Several questions bounced around her head about the accident. She wanted to know more, but thought back to his reaction in her room and decided she could wait. She didn't want to upset him. 

They made it outside without even having to use an elevator. Apparently her room was on the first floor, the only floor. Weird hospital. This must be a really small town or some private place for rich people. 

Jim led her over to a bench and helped her sit. The black metal had a soothing warmth to it from soaking up all the sunshine. It was a welcomed difference from inside the hospital. The sun felt nice on her arms. Most places on both of her arms were full of bandages, but the skin that she could see was pale. So she held out her arms as best she could, enjoying the heat that soaked into her. 

Jim's hand rested on her thigh, barely there so as not to hurt her. But enough so she could feel his presence. Because of him she felt warm inside too. 

She didn't know how much time had passed, but the next time she opened her eyes a new face had appeared. Merely a few feet in front of her stood a small girl, no more than five. She had blonde hair that was almost white and was wearing the biggest smile on her face that Skye had ever seen. 

"Hi there, cutie," Skye said, smiling back. The little girl's happiness was infectious. 

She felt Jim sit up straighter. 

" _No no no no_." A man came over in a rush and completely out of breath. "Over here, sweetie," he said, directing the little girl away. 

He had an accent. Just like that doctor. What were the odds of that? Small. Waking up from a coma? Also small. Maybe the universe was trying to tell her something. She should go buy a lottery ticket. 

The girl proved to be a stubborn one. She plopped down right in front of their feet, unwilling to budge. The man scooped her up. "I'm so sorry," he apologized to her and Jim, barely sparing them a glance. 

"Don't be," she said, smiling at how sweet the girl was. 

No response came from the man. In a rush of nervous energy, he booked it away from them. Almost as if he couldn't get away fast enough. Like he thought they had some disease. Odd. 

A heartbroken cry echoed. 

Skye looked to their right. The little girl had her arms stretched out, reaching back. Her face was very displeased. That was when Skye saw a small plastic monkey toy discarded on the sidewalk. 

The man seemed to notice too. Grudgingly, he backtracked his steps. 

"What's her name?" Skye called out to him, desperate for conversation or something else she couldn't figure out. 

The man looked at her, startled. "Uh um," he fumbled over his words. He had a young looking face, but the beard and mustache combo mad him more distinguished. Avoiding her eyes, he grabbed the toy, then paused like the ground had suddenly cracked apart and was about to suck him in. After a long silence, he finally spoke. "Dandelion....Dandy for short." Without waiting for her response, he spun around and took off like a fire had been lit under his ass. 

_Weirdo..._

People these days were weird. Not only his reactions, but that name....dandelion. What happened to boring, normal names like.... Melinda or something? "Remind me that when we have kids not to name any daughter we have after a flower," she said to Jim. He stayed quiet and her brain caught up to what she'd said. She shut her eyes in exasperation. Idiot. 

"I'm sorry. Was that too soon? I actually have no idea how long we've been dating." 

"Dating," he said as if the word were foreign to him. 

_Oh god, he wasn't one of those kind, was he?_ Afraid of any commitment. Worry settled in the pit of her stomach. "That's what we're doing, right?" She asked, confused now. 

He leaned towards her, quickly grabbing her hand and meeting her eyes. "Yea....yea...of course...I just....I like calling it....going steady," he said almost nervously. 

That made her laugh. "What are you? Ninety years old?" 

He chuckled and there was that happiness from him that she loved to see. 

She turned, searching for the little girl again, but she and her father were long gone. "That was weird, right? That guy. Acting like we were going to steal his kid or something..." She looked at Jim for confirmation that it wasn't just her that thought so. 

He nodded. "It was weird. Maybe he's just paranoid." 

"Speaking of weird. In that hospital room, when I first woke up...even before I opened my eyes, I just knew that you would be there. Like I had this sixth sense of you sitting by my bedside or something," she told him. 

"Maybe you heard me talking to you," she said and she could feel the rumbling in his chest as he spoke. "Telling you I needed you to come back to me." He took her hand, threading their fingers together. 

"Maybe." She smiled. It felt good to just sit and not have any commitments. To not have to rush to respond to something. To what? She didn't know, but either way she was going to take advantage of this. 

She stared up at the sky, still lost in thought of the image of him asleep in a chair. In her mind he was wearing blue and he looked damn good. 

"Someone's getting tired," he observed. 

"Sorry. Yea, I think I am." There was a pounding going on in her head that she didn't like. 

"Let's go back in. I don't want you pushing yourself like you always do," he said. 

"Okay," she agreed. Anything to make them get back to her bed faster. This whole thing really had tired her out. 

Everything was going to be okay though. She felt safe. She felt at home. Jim was with her. 

_//end//_

**Author's Note:**

> So....what did you think? :)


End file.
